


No Use Tryin'

by FakePlastikTrees



Category: The Closer
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-14
Updated: 2014-01-14
Packaged: 2018-01-08 17:15:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 809
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1135324
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FakePlastikTrees/pseuds/FakePlastikTrees
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sharon is drunk.</p>
            </blockquote>





	No Use Tryin'

It catches her off-guard, and even when she follows the brunette around the crowded station, Brenda still doesn’t believe it.

 

She stumbles at first, very subtle, very much unnoticeable to anyone who isn’t’ looking. It’s just a tiny little wobble, a near slip off her heel that she’s able to recover from rather quickly.

 

Brenda steps behind the Christmas tree and takes a peek from around the prickly pine, hiding behind her glass of wine, where she detects a second stumble as the other woman straightens her posture, sweeps her palms over her torso, and over her hips, with a careful exhale as she blinks a couple of times, and then picks up her own glass of what appears to be from the same bottle Brenda’s been sipping from all night.

 

The older woman leans casually against the wall behind her, miscalculating the distance and gasping a little when she finds herself falling backward against the wall for longer than anticipated.

 

Brenda’s mouth falls open behind her glass and her eyes widen as her suspicions are finally confirmed, “Oh, my dear lord—“ Sharon Raydor is drunk. Absolutely, and completely drunk at the station’s annual Christmas party and no one seems to care. Meanwhile, Brenda, for some inexplicable reason, is giddy beyond belief and she feels the alcohol-fused heat in her belly rise up to her chest and cheeks, tinting them in a mild blush as she makes up her mind to approach Sharon.

 

The blonde slips casually through the distracted crowd and she has to bite her lip to keep from laughing once Sharon notices her coming and pushes her weight off the wall with very little balance, brushing her hair back and placing her hands on her hips, then dropping them to her sides, and them lifting them again.

 

“Deputy Chief—Johnson,” Sharon nods her head.

 

“Oh, come on, Sharon, let’s drop the titles tonight, it’s Christmas—“ she leans in closely, until she’s nearly centimeters away and her tone drops, “—no one is going to wonder if I call you by your first name tonight.”

 

Sharon clears her through and stumbles back against the wall. “I don’t—I don’t think that’s very appropriate, but fine, if you insist.”

 

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you drunk before.” Brenda laughs, fighting the urge to lean over and kiss the other woman, as no one is supposed to know about their little arrangement just yet, still it’s difficult to resist the hip hugging pencil skirt and the low cut red sweater Sharon is wearing.

 

Sharon appears to be scandalized and she momentarily chokes on her words, shaking her head and brushing hair off her face that isn’t there before standing up straight again, careful not to get too close to Brenda as she replies in a hiss, “I will have you know, ‘Deputy-Chief’, that I am not—in fact drunk.”

 

“You look adorable when you’re drunk.”

 

“What?”

 

“I could eat you up, you’re so adorable,” Brenda tells her and leans in to faintly touch her lips to Sharon’s cheek before drawing back.

 

“Stop it, someone could see.” Sharon looks around the entire room, no one is looking.

 

“I like your sweater,” Brenda replies, completely ignoring Sharon’s protests, “Very festive. It’s a good color on you.”

 

Sharon eyes Brenda quickly from head to toe and then furrows her brow briefly before anxiously replying, “You look very beautiful.” Turning away from the blonde, she then mumbles under her breath, “Oh, I shouldn’t have had so much to drink.”

 

Brenda isn’t sure how it happens, or when exactly, in her charming, teasing assessment of Sharon’s lost sobriety, but she soon finds herself being dragged through and out of the station, to the dark side of the parking lot, where Sharon pushes her against a very cold wall and kisses her, deeply and demandingly and just as Brenda is getting used to it and sighing with satisfaction, Sharon pulls away—way, way away—and holds both her hands up, warding Brenda off.

 

“Okay, I am drunk. I am very, very drunk, but you need to stop, because I don’t have much control over myself at the moment and it’s difficult to ignore you when you blatantly flirt, so—just—stop.”

 

“Okay,” Brenda nods her head and licks her lips, still catching her breath, because drunk Sharon can really lay one on hers. “Okay, I’ll stop.”

 

“Good,” Sharon says, beginning to move towards the building again, but not before stopping one more time to say very seriously, “Oh, and come over tonight, that outfit is ridiculous and inappropriate for a work function.”

 

Brenda smiles to herself, giving Sharon a five second head start and herself a moment to take a breath and keep herself from dragging Sharon into her car for a quickie.  What Sharon has in mind is probably a lot more promising anyway. 


End file.
